


All Things Collide

by thenightbefore



Category: Original Work
Genre: Depression, Eating Disorders, Gay, Jock/Nerd Dynamic, M/M, Male Slash, Original Character(s), Original Fiction, Original Slash, References to Depression, Sexuality Crisis
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2018-02-20
Packaged: 2019-02-18 07:47:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13095621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thenightbefore/pseuds/thenightbefore
Summary: Ryan is normal. He goes to the gym every day, kisses hot girls, and ignores the hollow touch of depression like it doesn't exist. When he meets Drew, the softest, prettiest boy he's ever seen, all of his suppressed demons rise to the surface.





	1. March

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! just as a quick warning, this story will cover some sensitive topics, but I'll give specific warnings before the chapter that includes it. The story is also being cross-posted on fictionpress under the pen-name 'nothingnotable' and it should be around 12 chapters total. I wrote this story as a form of self-therapy, but hope you enjoy and stay for the ride ♥

The only time the gym wasn't crowded like a beehive was at night. Ryan stepped out of the empty showers, naked from the waist up, a pair of loose joggers slung around his hips.

Nobody else was there. It was just him, a bunch of lockers, and pure sweet silence. The university gym was usually brimming to suffocation, but it was nearly 11 PM, and midterm season seemed to have warded everyone off.

It didn't ward Ryan off. He caught his reflection in the mirror, and smiled. "You look good, Ryan," he told himself. And it was true. His body had never looked better - the hard panes of his chest, his narrow hips, his lean arms. It was all quite impressive, if he said so himself.

He stared at his smile, half-lazy across his face, and watched his own eyes flicker with uncertainty. Shouldn't he be studying like the rest of them? Shouldn't he be worrying about his future?

His stomach lines tensed, and he ran a hand through his hair. He would worry about that later. He was only a college sophomore. He had time. Right now, what mattered was looking good, feeling good, and feeling girls.

He spun his locker combination, retrieving a dark red shirt. He smoothed out his hair, still damp from the shower. He was just about to leave, gym bag in his fist, when he heard a crash. Ryan paused, and turned.

"Hello?" He followed the sound past a couple of locker stations, footsteps light, until he caught a glimpse of a blur. Maybe he wasn't the only late-night-slacking gym goer after all. Turning the corner, Ryan stopped in his tracks.

A boy was lying on the middle of the ground.

"Fuck." Ryan immediately knelt down next to him. "Dude, you okay?"

There was no response. Ryan stared at him, wondering if he was going to have to do CPR, some mouth-to-mouth shit, and agonized silently. Of course, he would if he had to save a life, but it was admittedly kind of gross. Although the boy at least had soft pink lips and long lashes, so if it came down to it, Ryan could pretend he was a girl. A tomboy girl. Yes, he'd go with that.

Ryan tentatively pressed his hand against the boy's chest. He could feel a racing heart, and the gentle, almost imperceptible, rise and fall of breath. "Rise and shine," Ryan said. "The gym locker room is not your bedroom."

The boy did not respond. Ryan felt the edge of panic press against his ribs. He was about to throw away all fucks and CPR the shit out of him when those long girly eyelashes flickered open. An unsteady gaze stared at him.

"You're awake," Ryan said, and his toes, which he hadn't realized had curled themselves to death, slowly relaxed.

The boy blinked at him. He had brown eyes flecked with gold. Yes, quite pretty. Which was completely irrelevant of course.

Ryan backed away a few feet to give him space. The boy forced himself to move from a lying position to a sitting, and Ryan watched his arms tremble from the effort. He noticed sweat dripping down the boy's neck.

"I'm sorry," the boy said, glancing at him. "I don't know what happened. I was awake and then…" He gestured to the ground.

Ryan shifted uncomfortably. "You look like you did one hell of a workout," he finally said.

The boy flushed from his neck to the side of his cheeks. "It was my first time."

He looked so embarrassed and Ryan felt a laugh creep up to his throat, fast, and he stifled it. "Did you maybe go a little overkill?" He tried to sound sweet about it, but from the way the boy's eyes narrowed, he knew he hadn't hid the laughter on his face.

"Maybe. I don't know. I think the incline, or whatever, was too high."

"You should know your limits." Ryan stood up now. "Passing out after a workout is just poor form."

"It was my first time," the boy said again, this time defensively. He looked comfortably acquainted with the ground, like getting up would suck the life out of him.

After a moment, he stumbled to his feet, and leaned his head against the wall like he wanted to die. "I don't know why people do this torture on a daily basis," he muttered, and Ryan could see the exhaustion steeped in his body.

As the boy put away the deodorant that had fallen on the ground during his fainting, Ryan noticed his backpack had a textbook called Chemical Engineering in it.

"You must be pretty smart," Ryan said, jutting his chin toward the textbook.

The boy glanced at it apprehensively. "I'm better at it than going to the gym."

Ryan smiled. "It takes some getting used to. It's really good for you. Endorphin release and all."

"I wonder what hormone is released when I pass out on the floor."

Ryan laughed. "Hey, it was your fault for overdoing it."

"I should sue them."

"Yeah, okay, blame the innocent gym equipment. You know, for an engineer, it's pretty damn stupid to go overkill on your first workout."

"I'm not an engineer yet," he pointed out, as if that explained everything.

Ryan leaned against the wall, hands in his pockets, and stared at the barely strung lightbulb at the top of the ceiling. From the corner of his eye, he watched the boy pull his backpack over his shoulders, wincing from the heavy weight. They met eyes, and he shifted, a frown surfacing on his lips.

"And you're still here for what?" The boy waved his hands, gesturing at Ryan.

Ryan held up his hands innocently. "I just want to make sure you don't faint again."

"I wouldn't call it fainting. More like… blacking out."

"There is no difference."

"There is," the boy insisted, this pretty boy with pretty brown eyes. Ryan swallowed, tried to ignore the little pinch of queasiness that settled in his stomach. Brushed the apprehension away with a smile. "Let me just walk you out," he said. "If you fall on the floor, no one else is going to be here."

He didn't get a counter-argument. They walked out of the locker rooms, and down the nearly empty hallways of the gym centre. Ryan glanced to his side, the boy along his left. He was pretty tall. Not as tall as Ryan, but only off by an inch or two.

When they reached the exit doorway, the boy stumbled for a moment, as if he'd seen stars.

Ryan pressed his hand into his shoulder. "Easy. Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine," he said. "Just tired. I really overdid it."

"You did. You should look up workout routines to pace yourself."

"I thought I'd just run until I felt like I'd done enough."

"You clearly have very high standards," Ryan said, but couldn't cast the worried expression off his face. Ryan fished out his keys, and his car beeped as it unlocked. He noticed his car was the only one in the student parking lot.

"You live on res?" he asked.

"No. I did first year, but I share an apartment now. I'm taking the bus."

Ryan arched a brow. "You're taking the bus? But... are you sure you won't, you know, black out, on the way there?"

The boy rolled his eyes. "It was a one-time thing."

"I could give you a ride," Ryan offered.

The boy just stared at him, long and hard, considering. "You know we're technically strangers."

"I go to school here," Ryan promised, flashing his student card. "And besides, the entire concept of university is being with strangers all day. If I wanted to kill you, I could have done it in those empty locker rooms."

"I don't know." He bit his lower lip contemplatively and Ryan refused to call it cute.

"I think the risk of you passing out on your walk from the bus and being mugged is higher," Ryan added, and the engineer in the boy probably weighed the statistics, because he finally said, "Okay, yeah, I'll take you up on the ride offer."

They got into the car, and Ryan pulled down the windows. The spring air was warm, and he figured the boy would feel safer if the windows were open for him to scream, just in case Ryan was a serial murderer, which he wasn't. But he understood the concern. He turned on the radio station at a low humming volume, and secretly prayed that his car didn't smell like Taco Bell. Ryan was ashamed to say that the taco bell drive-through was like a second home to him.

"If I'm getting a ride from you, can I at least know your name?" the boy said as they pulled out.

"Ryan," he said. "You?"

There was a pause, and Ryan inhaled the air and wind from the window, and turned into the corner street.

Then the boy said, in a soft voice, "Drew," and Ryan thought it was suiting.

"Well, Drew, don't I even get a thanks for giving you a lift?" he joked.

All Drew said was, "You'll get a thanks when I get to my destination alive," with his pretty daring eyes, and some distant, far-off part of Ryan, one that was buried ten feet under a graveyard of denial, whispered: you're already a goner, aren't you?

\-----

Ryan did not expect to run into Drew again. And to be quite honest, he didn't really care that much. Between his own half-assed exam preparation, soccer commitments, and social life, he forgot about the engineer he'd driven home that night. The only thing he remembered very distinctly was halfway to Drew's apartment, Drew had paused, looked at the stars, and proclaimed, "We were made in the nuclear surfaces of stars."

Ryan had just stared at him, bewildered. "What? You're saying I'm a star?"

"We all are," Drew said, and he'd looked right at him, face shining, and it had been hella romantic, except for one thing: Ryan was straight like the linear arch of a bullet. He knew Drew was too, probably, but still. Did his lips have to be so goddamn pink and soft? Wasn't that exclusively reserved for girls?

This was the thought that brewed in Ryan's head as he stared at Drew from across the campus yard. Drew stood under a tree that resembled a cherry blossom tree, its pink plush leaves falling gently onto the grass from the breeze. A couple of his friends were with him. They seemed to be in a heated discussion about… Ryan moved closer, and strained his ears. Hydraulic systems? Oh hell, he was more nerdy than Ryan first thought. He didn't realize he'd been openly staring at them until one of the other boys noticed him, and said something to Drew.

Ryan's heartbeat jumped. Drew glanced over in his direction, and before Ryan could die of awkwardness, Drew smiled and waved, as if Ryan hadn't just been creepily observing him and his pals.

"Uh, hi," Ryan said, taking this cue to walk up to him. "Good to see you not on the ground."

Drew shrugged. "I haven't been back to the gym since last time."

Before Ryan could respond, one of Drew's friends spoke up from where he lay on the grass, arms folded behind his back. "That your boyfriend Drew? He's pretty hot."

"Shut up," Drew hissed, eyes darkening. He looked back at Ryan nervously. "They're being stupid. Ignore them."

Boyfriend. Did that mean Drew was gay? Nah, it was probably a running joke. For some reason gay jokes were rampant among straight people, which Ryan knew from first-hand experience with his own friends.

Ryan covered smoothly. "I'll ignore the boyfriend part, but I am pretty hot, let's be honest."

Drew didn't reply, his shoe sole digging into the grass. There was an awkward silence. Ryan figured he should probably get on his merry way, but he found himself staying rooted on the spot. They ended up staring at each other for a good minute, and Ryan noticed the very thin, barely noticeable waistband of Drew's boxers at the edge of his jeans, and tried to figure out what company they were. Calvin Klein?

"You seem to know what you're doing at the gym," Drew said, cutting the silence.

"I've been going since early high school, so yeah, I've got it down," Ryan said, eyes still distractedly staring at the waistband.

"Can you maybe…" Drew glanced back at his friends, then lowered his voice. "Help me make a regime that's good. I don't know what's good. I know we don't really know each other, and I hate to ask for another favour but to be fair, you offered to ride me home, I didn't ask, so that one doesn't really cou-"

"Yes." Ryan's eyes brightened. "Nobody's ever asked me to do that, but I've always secretly wanted to."

"Okay, I know I really shouldn't be asking this of you, but I'm kind of a perfectionist and I need a good routine befo-"

"I said yes, Drew."

Drew finally took a breath. "You sure?"

"Yes." Ryan grinned. Drew finally seemed to relax, and he smiled again, the kind of smile that reached the eyes, and Ryan's stomach clenched, like alarm bells were going off in warning.

\-----

"I don't see why you need my current weight."

"It's a good starting point!"

"I'm not telling you my weight."

"Why? You're not a girl. It's not like you-"

"Did you just gender stereotype?"

"No, uh, okay," Ryan brushed past that. "You know what, let's start with…you're goal! Yeah, that's good. What do you want out of working out. To look better, feel better?"

There was a bit of a pause. Ryan glanced up, and wondered how they'd gotten so… intimate. They'd found a tree away from Drew's friends, and they were both sitting cross-legged, directly facing each other. Ryan had a notepad in his lap, and his gaze trailed past the paper to his knee, which was two inches away from Drew's knee. They were really too close. He couldn't find it in him to shift away, not when Drew smelled like citrus.

As a child, Ryan drank orange juice notoriously, so it was perfectly logical that he found Drew's scent endearing.

"I want to be healthy," Drew said.

"That's good. Not trying to impress any ladies, then?"

"No." Drew looked like he was going to say something more, but instead he shyly cast his gaze to the grass, and pulled at it uncomfortably.

"Okay, well, I'm going to start you off easy. Just some standard stuff. Push ups, easy weights."

"Weights? No. Wait, what about the treadmill?"

"Cardio isn't really that great. Weights helps both in losing weight and gaining muscle."

"I really don't need to lose weight," Drew said, frustrated, and it was true, he was on the skinnier side. Ryan imagined that if he ran his fingers down Drew's hips, he'd feel the soft jut of his hip-bone. Ryan didn't know why he imagined that. "As long as you're keeping up your calorie intake, you won't. You'll just gain more definition."

"I just want to be healthy," Drew repeated.

"This is healthy."

"But the treadmill isn't?"

Ryan sighed. "You can if you really want to. Cardio just isn't as useful as people think."

After some begrudging arguing, Drew finally stopped questioning every single point Ryan suggested, and let him take over and make the entire routine. Ryan found himself really into it, the notepad page he'd flipped open to now full of scribbles and changes and alterations. He really enjoyed this kind of stuff, and it was rare that he felt useful.

In university, most people were high-key nerds. Ryan wasn't that smart, and didn't really care about schoolwork, so he spent most of his time idly going to classes and falling asleep.

This though… he was good at this. And he was being useful. It felt good.

After the routine, Ryan and Drew went to get bubble tea. Ryan ordered chocolate, and Drew opted for honeydew. Ryan paid for both, even as Drew protested, saying, "that's a third favour I'm indebted in now", but Ryan liked to pay for his friends. Not that Drew was a friend… or was he? They were getting bubble tea. That qualified as casual friend in Ryan's books.

They didn't talk in the cafe - just sat next to each other, doing their respective things. Drew had his head buried in a statistics textbook, and Ryan filled out his application for seasonal summer soccer intramurals.

"It's getting dark," Drew said. Ryan glanced out the window, and noticed that the sun had went down, the sky dark purple.

He stood up, draped his gym bag over his shoulder. "We should get going."

"You always carry that thing around," Drew said in reference to the gym bag, standing up as well. "You're an actual gym rat, aren't you?"

"I don't prefer being called a rat of any of kind… maybe a gym dork."

"Gym and dork don't go together."

Ryan smiled. "Well, maybe they should."

Drew packed up his things, taking an obscenely long time. He put away his statistics textbook. He carefully filled his pencil case with his pens and pencils. It was all very precise and Ryan thought it was cute.

"Ready to go?" Ryan teased.

Drew stared at the table, and glanced at the seats. "We didn't leave anything."

"No," Ryan said fondly. "I think we're good."

They both stepped outside and there was a cool breeze. Ryan's heart opened at the weather. There was something about spring air that made him feel nostalgic and content. Drew followed a little ways behind as they trekked to the bus stop.

"This was fun," Drew said absentmindedly.

"We didn't even talk," Ryan pointed out.

"I know that!" Drew's eyes went dark. "I just thought…I don't know, I guess I like company even if there's no talking involved." He scuffed his shoe against the ground, glancing away, as if suddenly embarrassed.

Ryan felt bad. "I liked it too."

The corner of Drew's lips turned. "Of course you did. I'm a joy to be around."

"Such a joy," Ryan said theatrically. "So fun, that maybe I'll join you at the gym tomorrow for your workout."

"Really?" Drew's eyes widened.

"I don't want you to injure yourself by doing it wrong," Ryan explained. "And I'm always there anyway."

"I'm going to be embarrassing."

"All the more reason for me to join you," Ryan said, laughing. Drew glanced at him, a strange expression on his face, before he looked away, eyes toward the sky, and Ryan tried not to think about what it meant.  
\----- 

"You were right. You are super embarrassing."

"Shut up." Drew grit his teeth, going down for another push up. His arms trembled. A second passed. He flopped onto the mat, arms and legs spread out like a starfish, and Ryan averted his gaze from Drew's ass.

He had a pretty nice butt for someone who'd probably never done a squat in his life. Lucky genetics. Ryan's ass had been finely sculpted from years of going to the gym, and while he was proud of it, it was still unfair in his books.

"Get up," Ryan said. "You did like… five push ups."

"Do you want to me to pass out again?" Drew growled.

"You are nowhere near your limit. Just a few more."

"I hate you," Drew said, emphasizing the word hate with venom in his voice. He still bent down and started doing push ups again. He did two before he flopped again. Ryan nudged the side of his head gently with his sneaker, and Drew grumbled, and did another two. This time he didn't get up.

"You are so out of shape," Ryan said, a grin on his face.

"Are we done today?" Drew said miserably.

"We're not even halfway through your workout, but I didn't anticipate how bad you were going to be. So yeah, we can stop."

Drew stood up, his heart damp from sweat and pressed against the sides of his forehead. "That was insulting."

"I speak the truth and the truth only," Ryan said solemnly.

Drew whacked him with his towel, and Ryan laughed, jumping away, his heart light.

It went unsaid that he was going to be joining Drew next week too.  
\--- 

Ryan's feet swung off the bed and hit the ground with a thud. He sat at the edge of the bed, staring at his bare feet, his toenails primly cut. His eyelids closed. Today was Tuesday. He hated Tuesdays.

Drew had messaged him last night saying he had a midterm and was skipping their workout. Ryan had no classes, and all of his other friends were busy studying too. Outside, rain slicked the earth wet.

The morning was so heavy Ryan thought he was going to sink.

Swallowing past the fog in his mind, Ryan stood up. He stumbled into the shower. Shaved, washed. Brushed his teeth with half-a-brain functioning. When he was done, he smoothed out a navy top over his chest, and pulled on some jeans.

Good job, he told himself. You're doing good.

Then he cleaned his room. Made his bed. Put away all of his things. Ryan followed the rule every item has to have its own home religiously. When he was done, he tried to muster the strength to go eat breakfast, but instead collapsed back into bed, and stared at the ceiling.

The rain was loud.

Maybe he'd go back to sleep.

You did good, he told himself again. It didn't feel truthful when he lay there until sun went down and the moon came up, but he still said it again: "you did good," aloud to himself, mouth dry as it wrapped around the fragile words.

Some days were just bad. It seemed out of his control.  
\--- 

His girl-toy Courtney swung her legs around his waist, ass pressed against his crotch, and Ryan's head dipped down to kiss her. They sat on the third floor of the student centre on an empty couch, tangled up in each other.

Courtney was on the soccer team, and they'd instantly been attracted to each other during a girls versus boys scrimmage match in freshman year.

"You have a way with that mouth of yours," Courtney said, long blonde hair swishing.

"I'm pretty skilled," Ryan agreed. He made a little noise. "You're not bad either."

"Not bad?" Courtney peeled back for a moment, eyes breathless. "You know I'm the best you've ever had."

"Please," Ryan said.

They kissed again, and this time, Ryan pressed her onto the couches, hand drifting to the strap of her black bra sticking out from her yellow shirt. Courtney laughed, and nudged his hand away. "We can't have sex in the student centre," she said.

"Why?" Ryan said. "Nobody is here. Everyone's too busy nerding out over exams."

"The elevators," Courtney said, gesturing to the elevators in front of them. She kissed him again on the lips. "They could open if someone comes up."

"I highly doubt that," Ryan said. "And besides, we're not harming anyone."

"Guess not," Courtney said, easily agreeing, and she pulled off her shirt, skin flushed from heat. Ryan followed suit, tugging his top off, and her hands were immediately on his chest, on his tight, muscled body.

He let his own hands take a handful of her breasts, kissing each nipple with his tongue.

She moaned quietly. The elevators opened. Courtney jumped. Ryan glanced over.

Drew stared at them. "Uhm. Ryan. I mean." He just stared, mouth half-open. He had a textbook clutched to his chest.

Ryan felt his face heat up. He wasn't sure why he felt guilty. Courtney pressed her shirt against her chest, looking half-mortified, and half-even-more-turned-on-at-being-caught. Drew stood there for a moment.

"We were just... relieving stress," Ryan said lamely.

"I can see that." Drew coughed. "I usually study up here because it's quiet."

"We - uh, well. Sorry."

"You've scarred it for me. So I can never study here again."

"I'm sorry," Ryan said, and he felt like he was apologizing for something more.

"It's okay." They didn't meet eyes.

Drew's gaze flicked to his chest, then he glanced at Courtney, who looked sheepish. Before Ryan could say anything else, Drew hurried away, textbook still clutched to his chest like a lifeline.

"That was bad," Ryan said.

"I don't know. I thought it was kind of hot." Courtney pulled him back down, and Ryan tried to smirk, but after they'd had their fun, and he tossed his shirt back on, he couldn't help but feel a little sick.

He ran a hand through his rumpled hair, and stared at himself in the bathroom mirror.

He felt like a sex-addled gym jerk that nobody had liked since high school ended.

Sure, he was hot. But more and more, Ryan felt like a shallow void, like he'd been swallowed up by his good looks and left with nothing more.  
\----- 

The bubble tea cafe ended up being their thing.

Drew sat on his laptop, typing furiously, dark hair bedraggled. He took a sip from his honeydew, then returned to typing like the world was ending. "Lab report," he said when Ryan asked, without looking up from the screen. "Due tomorrow." He made a little deathly noise, then continued harassing the keyboard.

Ryan always bought their drinks. Drew protested like the earth would implode, but Ryan insisted. He felt good when he bought people things.

It wasn't that he was trying to bribe friendship. He knew money didn't mean anything. But it still felt good, and he liked that Drew was sharing this booth with him, drinking the bubble tea that Ryan had bought him, looking relaxed and comfortable in his presence.

After a couple of hours, when the sun started to go down, Drew let his head drop on Ryan's shoulder.

Ryan stared out the window, heartbeat fluttering for a moment, before settling. "Tired?"

"Yes. But it's done."

"I'm sorry." He wasn't sure what he was referring too. The thing with Courtney? He didn't have anything to apologize for. But he did anyway.

Drew didn't respond, eyes closed. "We're friends now, right?"

"Yeah." Ryan hesitated, then carded his hand once, gently, through Drew's hair. It was as soft as it looked. The purple sky seemed to smile at him. "Friends."


	2. April

_It was weird_ , Ryan thought as he ironed his jeans flat, how some people you’d known for years could feel like strangers, and a boy you’d known for only a month could become like family.

He turned off the flat iron, and stared at his jeans, pleased. His eyes flicked to his cell phone. Drew had messaged him. Or more like spammed him. Ryan leaned his hip against the table, a smile flicking across his lips.

_the piano and violin duet was actually life changing_

_I’m serious_

_but now i’m soaked and it’s raining and i have to bus unless a special friend of mine wants to offer a rid_

_I should emphasize: raining_ very _hard._

Ryan went over to his window to check out the weather. It was raining steadily, and the sky was slate gray. It had been like this for a week now. Ryan leaned his head against the cool window, and took a breath.

It was like the world was on pause, letting Ryan figure out what he wanted out of life. He remembered his high school guidance counsellor staring at him with kind eyes: “What do you want out of this life, Ryan?” she’d asked.

He couldn’t answer that. Back then, he’d shrugged, and said, “I don’t know, but I’ll figure it out. I have time.”

It had been two years and he still felt deeply clenched by the grips of whatever rut he’d been born in. Nothing could light his insides up, fire up his skin, make him feel the heat of passion.

He stared at Drew’s name across his cell phone screen.

 _coming to save ur ass in a second,_ he replied.

Drew gave him the dim spark of something out of reach. Something that felt like hope.

 ------

“Turn the heating on.”

“It _is_ on,” Ryan said.

“It’s fucking cold. It’s not on.”

“It fucking is, it just takes awhile to warm up the car.”

Drew glared at him, soaked from the head down to his shoes, and reached for the heating. Ryan smacked his hand away lightly. “I told you, it’s on _full-blast._ You’ll feel it soon enough. Don’t be a baby.”

“I’m not being a baby. I’m just cold.” Drew looked pitiful, shivering from head to toe, hair flat against his forehead from the dampness. His teeth chattered lightly, and his hands were pressed together, looking paler than usual. Ryan took pity, and grabbed his jacket from the backseat.

He threw it at Drew’s face. “Take this.”

Drew stared at the warm, varsity jacket. It was Ryan’s from high school. He didn’t know why he’d still kept it. “Thanks,” Drew said quietly, and wrapped it around his shoulders. It was  big on him, but soon his teeth stopped chattering, and he relaxed into the passenger seat. The heat kicked in a few moments later.

“I told you,” Ryan said smugly.

Drew looked half-asleep, but stuck out his middle finger.

“To think you went to see a classical performance,” Ryan said. “You’re not very classy to me.”

“I’m plenty classy.”

“And who told you that?” Ryan said.

“Me. Myself. And that’s all that matters.”

“Bit of an ego, huh?”

Drew smirked. “I’m spectacular.”

Ryan rolled his eyes, but the worst part was, somewhere in the depths of his heart, he agreed. Drew was _spectacular._ He was pretty and funny and sweet (when he wanted to be). He got embarrassed easily, he could do mental math like a genius, and he could argue his way out of the deepest trench in the world.

Drew fiddled with the radio, changing the station. “Keep this one.” It was soft orchestral music.

“Pop and car rides are a pair.” Ryan twisted it back. “You can’t bop your head to fucking… Beethoven!”

“That was _clearly_ not Beethoven.”

“Whatever. Can you stop being such a…” Ryan waved his hand contemptuously as they stopped at a red light. “A prep boy.”

“I’m not a prep boy. I just have good taste.”

“That’s exactly what a prep boy would say.”

“I’m not listening to this crap,” Drew said.

“Fine.” Ryan turned the radio off. “We can sit in silence.”

Drew rolled his eyes, and pressed his head against the window, staring at the rain. They drove the rest of the way to Drew’s apartment in silence.

When Ryan dropped him off, Drew stood at the edge, passenger door open, anxiously twisting the cuffs of Ryan’s varsity jacket (which he hadn’t bothered to return).

“Do you want to come in?” Drew shouted over the rain.

“Come _where?_ ”

“Inside! My apartment,” Drew looked at him like he was stupid.

“Why?” Ryan asked, confused.

Drew’s face heated up. “I don’t know, you jerk. To hangout.”

Ryan’s stomach did a fast flip. He thought Drew had been asking for a specific reason. But to just hangout with him? To sit together and talk? It sounded so nice that Ryan actually thought he might cry. He refrained from crying, or else he’d have gone and thrown himself head-first down a penthouse window.

“I’d be honoured,” Ryan said.

Drew just stood there and grinned at him, seeming to have suddenly forgotten that he was being re-drenched by the rain falling from the sky.

 ----

“Mr. Bean?”

Ryan held up the DVD set teasingly. Drew paused with his towel halfway around his head, having just came out of the shower. He walked over in one quick stride and plucked the DVD out of Ryan’s hand.

“That is none of your business,” he said.

“It’s just, as a college student?”

“It’s a good way to de-stress.”

“I’m sure it is,” Ryan said, and he glanced over at Drew, gaze locked on him. He smelled like fruity champagne, and his eyes were smoked over from the heat of the shower. His skin looked warm and hot to touch.

Drew had worn a shirt and joggers, but the shower made him look so desirable it almost hurt.

Ryan blinked at his own thoughts. Jesus Christ. Those had certainly come out of nowhere. He imagined Courtney naked under the shower, and calmed down. He was fine.

Drew shared his apartment room with his ‘pal’ named Eric. Before he’d taken a shower, Drew had talked in length about his ‘pal’. There was bright yellow tape separating their floor, and while it seemed childish, Ryan could see why.

Eric’s side of the room was an actual hurricane. Food plates were scattered everyone. His blankets and pillows were on a glorious dumpster pile on the ground. There was shit scrawling across every square inch of the floor… and were those condoms? _Used?_

From the yellow line over, Drew’s room was vacuumed, clean, and nothing was out of place. Ryan took a breath. A man who kept his room clean was a man Ryan understood.

Eric was not at home at the moment, which Drew had reacted to by saying ‘ _thank god, thank the cosmos, thank the stars’_ to the ceiling.

“Do you want anything to eat?” Drew offered.

“I’m good,” Ryan said. “I ate before I picked you up.”

“Okay. Good.” Drew sat down on his swivel chair, and his hands pressed down on his knees.

Beautiful. Ryan swallowed. It really should be illegal for a guy to be so goddamn pretty.

They sat in silence for a moment. A sliver of awkwardness sniped at the quietness. Ryan didn’t find himself feeling awkward around Drew very often, but the new environment made it feel like the silence was as dense as bricks.

To occupy himself, he glanced around the bedroom nook again, although he’d already seen most of it while Drew was showering. There was a bundle of notebooks on his desk, and a little map of the world with stickers on different places. Ryan absentmindedly grazed his hand over Italy. “Are these places you’ve been?”

Drew glanced up, mouth downturned. “I wish. Those are places I want to go.

Ryan hummed. “Have you been to any of them yet?”

“No. I mean, look at me.” There was a bitter laugh. “It’s not like I have the money, and I’m stuck in school. And then I’ll have a job, and I’ll be working and…” He trailed off, and his knuckles were almost white on his knees. “It’s just fun to dream.”

“Maybe you can’t go to all of them,” Ryan said. “But what if you pick just one?”

Drew stared at him. “What do you mean?”

“Okay. Hold on.” Ryan sat up a little straighter. “Close your eyes,” he instructed.

Drew blinked at him. “No.”

“Just… look, trust me.”

This time, the brown eyes glared, but hesitantly closed, and Ryan’s throat caught for a moment, because he was angelic: pale eyelids and long closed lashes and a firm pink mouth. Ryan coughed, and swallowed away the heat in his chest.

“I’m going to touch you.”

“Oh god, someone help me _,_ ” Drew joked, but there was a breathlessness in his voice, and Ryan’s own heart pounded. He reached out and let his fingers slickly grab Drew’s wrist. His wrist was warm, and the pounding in Ryan’s chest became more of a stampede. He guided Drew’s wrist and hand to the map, and started dragging it over the entirety of it.

“What are you doing?” Drew murmured as his hands brushed over California. His eyes were still clenched shut. His entire body was still aside from his right hand.

“When you feel ready, tell me when to stop.”

“I… I don’t understand.”

“C’mon, Mr. Engineer. It’s not hard to grasp. When you feel like it, tell me to stop.”

“O-okay.” Drew’s voice was a half-whisper.

A moment passed. Ryan wondered if this was what being in frozen in time was like. Drew muttered ‘stop’ and they paused, both of them opening their eyes. Drew’s finger was on Iceland. Ryan’s hand was still around Drew’s wrist, and Ryan swore his heartbeat was flapping like a hummingbird.

Drew pulled back first, looking flustered. “Iceland. So what? I’m never going to go there.”

“Let’s see how much tickets are.” Ryan flicked through his phone.

“This isn’t going to happen.”

“The cheapest one is like $400, and the more expensive ones reach $1000.”

“I have to pay college tuition.”

“Don’t you get loans?”

“Yeah. But then I have to pay those back. I can’t just spend my money on-”

Ryan shushed him. “You’re going to be an engineer. You will have the money.”

And that was how, ten minutes later, they were curled up on Drew’s fresh-sheeted bed watching Iceland travel videos. Drew was sitting on the left, his laptop propped, and Ryan leaned near him, pointing at the screen. Ryan found his gaze straying from Iceland to Drew’s face, which was focused entirely on the video.

His smile was warm and light, his eyes sparkling as he watched.

_God, he’s an enigma._

The thought was brusque, accompanied by a panicked squeeze in Ryan’s stomach. He blanked the thought out. As the night wore on, Ryan found himself learning more about Drew, and the more he learned, the more he wanted to explore. “This is my favorite planet,” Drew said, trailing the image on the screen with his hand.

“Jupiter,” Ryan recognized.

“Yeah.” Drew sighed fondly.

“Any particular reason why?”

“I mean, ever since the Juno pictures were released, it’s hard not to like it. It looks like a piece of art.”

Ryan looked at the high-resolution pictures, with the swirling, complex patterns. Drew was right. It looked like a piece of art. His gaze wandered to Drew, and he thought, _there’s another piece of art._ As if reading his mind, Drew continued, “I guess I relate to it.”

“Isn’t it the biggest planet? No offense, but you’re not the bulkiest guy in town.”

Drew laughed, and mock-glared. “Well, apparently all of the planets and the sun emit equal amounts of heat. But Jupiter… it emits more heat than it receives.”

Ryan sobered. “So you give more than you recieve?”

“Maybe I don’t. But I feel like I do.” He quirked a smile. “I probably shouldn’t say this. I’ve asked you for way too many favours.”

“No, it’s okay.” Ryan shook his head. There was a pause. “Tell me more.”

“I always think about other people’s feelings,” Drew said, seeming eager that he could talk about this. “I’m always trying to take care of them. Not step on them. I’m really attentive to that sort of thing. But people, they don’t do the same back… and it’s not that they’re _bad._ ” Drew took a breath. “They just don’t notice. They still care about me. But it’s nothing to them.”

“Do I do it?” Ryan said, immediately panicking, because that was the last thing he wanted to do.

“No. You’re really weird.” Drew laughed. “You don’t even talk about yourself.”

“I don’t?”

“No. The entire time you’ve been here, we’ve focused on me. My room, my travel plans, now my love for Jupiter.”

Ryan swallowed, feeling the life drain out of him in one shot, like he’d downed too much vodka and had reached blackout stage. Drew was staring right at him, this brown-eyed art, and Ryan _knew_ he didn’t offer much about himself. It was just… no one had ever picked up on it. People were happy to talk about themselves. They never noticed that he shut himself down, brushed aside his own needs.

He didn’t _want_ people to know. And he’d only known Drew for a month… all of a sudden, he felt transparent.

“I don’t want to talk about me,” Ryan mumbled.

“Why?” Drew said, and his eyes were soft. There was no pressure in his voice.

“Because I feel like…” Ryan twisted the blanket sheet in his left hand absentmindedly. His face felt hot and he couldn’t bring himself to make eye contact with Drew anymore. He focused on the patterned sheets. “You know how sometimes people say they have so many layers? Like… if you kept digging, you’d find so much more. Sort of like an onion.” He laughed a little, and Drew obligatory laughed with him.

Ryan straightened a little. “I feel like if they dug into me, they’d find nothing. Just emptiness. Lots of it.”

“So that’s why you don’t talk about yourself?” Drew said.

“I just don’t see why I should, when I have nothing important in me.”

Finally, Ryan hesitantly looked up at Drew, and Drew just smiled at him. There wasn’t any pity there, or confusion. Just a smile. “You’re not wrong,” Drew said. “Human beings are mostly empty space anyway.”

“But compared to _other_ people,” Ryan said.

Drew flopped down on his back, putting his laptop away, and he looked more relaxed than he’d ever looked in Ryan’s presence. He folded his hands behind his back, and stared at the ceiling. It was then that Ryan noticed that he had those fake light-up stars plastered on it, like the kind you’d have as a kid.

Drew said, “Sometimes, there’s miles of empty space, but if you keep reaching, there’s something beautiful.” He turned to look at Ryan, and Ryan’s whole heart swallowed him.

“Think about space,” Drew said. “It’s darkness. It’s soundless. And you can travel stretches of time without finding a single thing. But if you keep going, eventually, you’re going to come across something grand. Like a planet, or a supernova, or a burning star.”

Ryan let out a breath. “So you’re saying I have something grand inside me?” He laughed, but it felt shaky and uneven

“Miles of darkness,” Drew repeated. “Doesn’t mean there’s not anything in there if you go deep enough.”

They stared at each other. The sun had gone down, and the room was dim. Drew’s doe brown eyes sparkled. Ryan nodded after a second, and lay his head down. He imagined pulling a burning hot star out of his darkness, and bringing it to his own eyes, his heart, firing them up all at once.

He almost wept at the thought of how good it felt.

  **\-------**

“I love this weather,” Ryan said. “A sunny afternoon and clear blue skies.”

“Don’t most people like this weather?” Drew said. They walked alongside each other through downtown streets. Drew held a super-sized slushy in his hand, courtesy of Ryan. Through the corner of Ryan’s eyes, he noticed Drew smiling down at his drink. His heart skipped two beats.

“I don’t know,” Ryan said. “I think it’s become trendy to like rainy weather. Or sunsets. People don’t really appreciate a good clear blue sky.”

Drew laughed. “Is that your theory?”

“People try to avoid being mainstream and then those new things end up being mainstream, making the original cool again. Like a blue sky.”

“I still think everyone likes blue skies,” Drew said.

Ryan laughed admittedly. “Yeah, probably.”

Ever since Drew had noticed Ryan didn’t talk about himself, he’d asked a lot of questions, randomly, forcing Ryan to think about his answer. _What’s your favorite colour? What kind of music do you like? Do you believe in God? Where would you travel if you could?_ At first, Ryan had just stared at him, trying to muster some kind of passionate answer, before mumbling something obvious.

But now he found himself spilling random insights about himself right into the open. It was freeing. It was almost like discovering himself all over again. He was more than a fucking athletic good-looking dude. He liked _blue skies._

They walked into a small restaurant at the end of the street, and Ryan watched the bright light illuminate the inside of the place.

They took a seat in a corner far away from others. Ryan raised a brow when he saw the waitress come by with their menus, asking if they wanted any drinks. They both ordered water.

“Holy mother of god,” Ryan said once she was out of earshot. “She was hot.” He grinned at Drew. “I guess today’s our lucky day.”

Drew twisted backwards to look, and smiled. “She’s very pretty.”

“And hot. Hmm. Should I try to pick her up?” He smoothed out his shirt, ruffled his hair straight. “I’m on her level, right? Or am I out of her league?”

“You’re in her league,” Drew said, a beat too late. His smile missed the mark.

Ryan stared at him. “Wait… oh shit, are you into her? Well, you can take a shot if you want.”

Drew’s face turned flush red. “I’m not into her. We just met her.”

“I know, but… I mean, I’ll let my fellow man take aim first.”

“Take _aim_? What does that even mean?”

“You’re pretty attractive,” Ryan said. “In more of a pretty boy way, but some women dig that. You can definitely give her a shot.”

“I don’t want to,” Drew hissed out.

The waitress came over again with their water, and Ryan sat up straighter. “Hey, I don’t mean to bother you,” he said, and his eyes slid over to Drew, who shook his head with warning eyes. Ryan ignored the gesture. “My friend over here thinks you’re beautiful,” he said. “I mean, off the charts gorgeous.”

The waitress paused, and made eye contact with Drew, who turned pinker than a summer strawberry. “I - uh, I don’t really-”

She studied him for a moment. Then, she shot him a blinding smile. “Thanks,” she said. She reached over, squeezed his shoulder once with perfectly manicured nails. Then she left, hips swaying, and Drew looked like the reddest tomato on planet earth.

“Dude!” Ryan said excitedly. “Shoulder squeeze? She’s way into you. I wouldn’t be surprised if she left her number for you at the end.”

Drew stared at him. “Fuck off! Why’d you do that?”

“What do you mean?” Ryan laughed. “Honestly, you should be thanking me. Most guys would.”

“I don’t _want_ her number!” Drew snapped.

“Why the hell not?"

“Because…” Drew’s hand absentmindedly crumpled the napkin in his hand. His warm brown eyes met Ryan’s. He swallowed hard. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you this before. But Ryan, I’m… gay.”

Ryan looked at him, his laughter dying down. “You’re what?”

“I’m gay.” Drew’s voice cracked. “I like boys.”

The wind left Ryan’s lungs. It felt like the ground slipped underneath him, and he had to grip the edge of the table with his left hand. “You’re gay?” he said again, blinking absentmindedly, and he knew he wasn’t reacting well. He could see hurt coloring Drew’s face, fear coming fast and hard.

He wanted to try to correct him. _I don’t care that you’re gay._ But Ryan’s heart just kept stuttering, because all of the little thoughts he’d had since they’d met… he’d ignored them, swept them under the rug. But now Drew was gay and it made everything seem so much more real, so much more complicated, and Ryan felt sick to his stomach.

“I’m sorry,” he said, standing up. “I just need to… uh, clear my head.”

Drew stood up, face soft. “Ryan-”

“Just a few minutes.” Ryan tried to laugh. Before Drew could reply, he ran out of there, out into the clear fucking blue skies that he loved so much, and tried to keep himself from puking all over the green grass.

Drew was gay. And Ryan was terrified.

 


End file.
